Means of Persuasion
by Just A Penniless Writer
Summary: Severus has a problem, Lucius has a solution, and Hermione holds all the cards. HBP compliant. LMHG with a dash of SSHG
1. Part 1

**Means of Persuasion  
**_Just A Penniless Writer_

  
**_Disclaimer:_** All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**_Author's Plea: _**Eh. Will be updated more regularly on my LJ, but let's see if there is any interest, shall we? Enjoy if you can.

**Part 1. **

The scotch had been distributed liberally all evening, yet only one of the room's occupants was feeling the effects.

Of course, that had been the plan. Lucius was well aware of his friend's low tolerance for alcohol and had chosen, much as he had done on many earlier occasions, to use it to his advantage. Luckily for the dour man, there was no Dark Mark involved in this plot. All Lucius needed today was information, honest information. Information the Potions master wasn't inclined to give him sober.

It had been more than a surprise when Lucius, on one of his first outings since he had been released from home imprisonment, had come upon his former friend looking most unlike himself as he was scolded by a faintly familiar younger woman. While Lucius was not particularly inclined to involve himself in what was obviously a domestic dispute, he did owe it to Severus for speaking in his behalf at his trial, thus reducing his sentence to a lengthy stay in his own manor under Ministry supervision. As well, he found he was very interested in exactly how the scowling and ill tempered man had come to be in the company of the woman, let alone allow himself to be publicly reprimanded. It just wasn't right.

And so Lucius, ever the gentleman, had stepped in to save the man from certain death at the hands of the obviously furious woman. He had been greeted so thankfully by Severus that he knew immediately more was amiss than he had first guessed. That feeling only expounded when the woman was introduced as Hermione Granger.

Oh, that name was quite familiar to him. Mudblood Granger and her little friends had defeated the Dark Lord those ten long years ago, and while he was still quite content with his defection from the Death Eaters by means of information on one Horcrux, it had been more to save his arse than from any feelings of remorse. In fact, he thought Voldemort had, at one point, had some great ideas. Unfortunately, his methods had left much to be desired, and Merlin smite him if Lucius did not do his duty as a Malfoy and protect his own interests over everything. After his Lord left him to rot in Azkaban and then proceeded to take further punishment for his failure through Draco... well, there wasn't much that Lucius wouldn't do to extract a little revenge of his own. What good was a Muggle free world if Malfoys were not treated with the respect they deserved?

But enough thoughts of what could have been. He remembered Miss Granger particularly well due to her part in his trial. The woman was a menace. For all that she had somehow spoken on his behalf, her dubious praise and pointed statements had certainly played into the council's decision to increase the security he was under during the term of his imprisonment.

The irritating woman looked so different from the last time he had unwillingly seen her that recognition had been nonexistent until he had already taken her hand in greeting. Manners and the knowledge of the political power she now certainly held over him forced him to complete the pleasantries. When he had studied her after his initial surprise, he could see the similarities he had missed. In fact, little had physically changed about her. She was still achingly average: average height, average build, average coloring. The only thing truly remarkable about the woman was the hair that still looked positively wretched and the piercing energy that flowed from her. If he could give her any praise, it was that she certainly had presence.

The only true difference in the young woman whom had 'defended' him at trial and this young woman was the underlining hardness now present. While he had always suspected she was much more of an opponent than people, his son specifically, gave her credit for, the image he was presented with now left no doubt. This was the look of a witch who would, one way or another, get her way. He was almost impressed.

However, if the surprise of her identity and consequent changes hadn't been shock enough, Severus had finished the re-introduction with a title that was almost spoken with soft regret, something that immediately piqued his interest even as it frightened him. The woman, the Mudblood… was the intended bride of his reluctant friend.

Unfortunately, with the irritatingly kind chit hanging on every word he said and every movement he made, he had been unable to receive adequate answers from his subtle prodding. Something was terribly off with the relationship, and after a decade of silence, Lucius was more than ready to wrap his mind around this mystery. Not to mention, he owed the man a favor. His testimony had followed the Mudblood's after all and, despite the former professor's own mangled reputation, salvaged some of his freedom. So was it that he found himself requesting Severus' presence for drinks that night and subsequently in his parlor with the inebriated Potions master.

"Really, Severus, I admit I am surprised," the blond drawled after an hour of small talk. "I never much saw you as the married sort."

The drunken master snorted.

"That would make two of us, then."

It was all Lucius could do to hold in his smirk. There really was much more to this situation than at first glance, and the first glance had been very telling as it was.

"Really? Not looking forward to wedded bliss?"

The dour man sneered, though it lacked quite the effect considering the sloppy quality.

"What wedded bliss? The girl is incapable of producing bliss."

"My my, Severus. One would question why you intend to marry her if you find the idea so… disheartening."

Snape lifted his half empty tumbler of scotch and tilted it slightly, resolutely.

"We were reasonably well acquainted," he began as he studied the depths of the liquid. "No ill will towards each other. She was one of the few that accepted my explanation before the Veritaserum. However, I would never imagine marrying the chit had she not gone and gotten herself pregnant."

Lucius felt he might be scarred for life. The idea was not something he particularly cared to envision. Yes, he appreciated Severus' company and skills but visually? And with the Mudblood?

"And… how exactly did she manage to do this?"

"The anniversary party for Voldemort's defeat was last month." Lucius nodded with a wry smile. Ah, memories. "I was in my customary location, scowling at the gathering. She approached with two mugs of punch."

"I believe I can see where this is going."

"Then you will understand when I leave out the details."

"Thank you."

"Aside from the awkwardness the following morning, I thought little of it. Until she finds me yesterday and informs me of my impending fatherhood."

"Which prompted you into a marriage proposal?"

"Ridiculous. It prompted me to request a paternity test."

"Which came back positive."

"I performed the charm myself. She was mighty smug considering she is just as at fault as I, if not more so. Surely she was not as drunk as I."

That ignited a thought that Lucius simply couldn't ignore.

"Severus," he began cautiously, "Did she know you well enough to be aware of your limited tolerance for alcohol?"

Snape only looked at him blankly, and Lucius knew all too well that his suspicion had never occurred to his friend. Now he was altogether worried. Not only was the filthy girl using very cunning practices, she was using them against a man he owed a favor to. It was simply not to be stood for.

"Never mind, Severus. Now, tell me, how did marriage become an answer to this problem?" he continued onward, pressing for more information before his friend hit the next level of drunkenness and went from morosely honest to incoherent.

"She said she would carry the child through, and that she would hold me liable. She mentioned courts and getting all her horrible friends involved if I did not marry. And, of course, the Ministry is just waiting for an excuse to put me through hell, and she well knows it." He paused with a sour yet thoughtful expression. "I have only some money put away. She said should we marry, she would primarily use her own salary. Should I refuse, she would drain my vault."

"Dear me. Quite the smug chit, is she not?"

There was a lengthy pause as Severus silently lamented his fate, and Lucius considered his options. It was tricky, but then, Malfoys never did like being in debt, monetarily or socially.

"Severus… What if she could be persuaded otherwise?"

"I do not see how."

"Would you be so inclined… to let me attempt?"

Despite his morose drunkenness, the black haired man seemed to recognize the underlining threat in the question. He looked at his companion with sloppy speculation.

"Just don't kill her."

Lucius smirked.

"Ah. So you are fond of her?"

"No. The Ministry would never cease to lament."

Lucius grinned maliciously. Really, there was so many options open. This was bound to be entertaining.

* * *


	2. Part 2

**Means of Persuasion  
**_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** All recognizable characters and elements from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**_Author's Plea: _**Eh. Will be updated more regularly on my LJ, but let's see if there is any interest, shall we? Enjoy if you can.

**Part 2. **

As expected and much too understandably, Severus had drunken himself into a stupor and was unconscious on Lucius' priceless couch within the hour. Lucius himself was more than awake and aware. There was much to be done, and he was looking forward to all of it.

But first came first, and if there was anything he had learned from almost two decades of marriage, it was the protocol men had to adhere to when they stayed out drinking. Not only would he be showing the witch respect she did not deserve by obeying propriety, he would also be able to paint a more detailed portrait of his opponent.

Locating Miss Granger was easy. He guessed correctly when he assumed she would use this time away from her husband-to-be to work. Flooing to the Ministry, he traveled without hesitation back to the scene of his own condemnation, the Department of Mysteries. Luckily, it was not necessary to attempt his way through the labyrinth of corridors and doors beyond the spinning room. Miss Granger had, most adequately, installed her Head Office before entrance into the actual Department, her door the only one besides that to the circular room on long empty hallway. He knocked brusquely and received an equally brusque "enter" from within.

If Lucius had ever entertained any notions of what Miss Granger did in her free time, aside from rolling in mud or other such slovenly Muggle traditions, the scene before him was most certainly it. A single candle, piles of parchment, countless scrolls, organized with acumen to detail that was beyond anal, and the woman herself, ink smudged fingers and cheek, scribbling furiously on the official looking document in front of her before straightening out her atrocious posture into something that more resembled a human being if stiff and imposing.

"Miss Granger," he greeted with mock civility, electing to do what disservice to her he could by ignoring her title. It was a small enough omission that it could easily be construed as a mistake.

"Mr. Malfoy," she answered with a similar tone, raising an eyebrow in unmistakable commentary. "Where is Severus?"

"I'm afraid Severus had a bit too much to drink. Celebrating his impending marriage and child, so I understand."

"As he should. It is a happy occasion." He found it astonishing that such a phrase could be said with such heartless conviction. It was almost as if she was looking forward to her impending future with as much fervor as Snape but was determined to do what she deemed the correct thing. Interesting. She might make it easier than expected.

"Of course. He is quite comfortable presently, but should you choose, you could collect him…"

"No, it is not necessary." She paused and looked him in the eye with unerring nerve. "If that is all…"

"Actually, no."

She straightened even further in her chair, and he briefly thought she looked much like Narcissa when a particularly bothersome person was accosting her. His lips twitched with amusement.

"Please forgive my intrusion at such a late hour, but I find myself curious how someone so… young managed such a high position. Head of the Department of Mysteries, Miss Granger?"

"Surely you know something of ambition, Mr. Malfoy," she responded tartly. "I started as soon as the war ended and worked hard to get to where I am, using all available means."

"I see. An admirable method. Does this philosophy also explain why you are the last of your peers to marry?"

The change was instant, and he was well aware that he had hit a most definite soft spot. Her drawn lips, her narrowed eyes, her hands straining on her desk – all told a wonderful story he could surely exploit.

"Yes, I suppose so. However, I see no harm in securing my position before resorting to romance. After all, I am still young."

"Young, Miss Granger? If I am not mistaken, you are the same age as my son. Twenty-eight?"

"Twenty-nine," she responded through gritted teeth. He upped his resolve. Really, this was entirely too entertaining.

"Ah, yes. I believe I am beginning to understand your interest in Severus. Surely there couldn't have been many options for a woman of your age."

Her eyes glinted wildly with restrained anger before they suddenly blanked. The change shook him at first. Apparently, he had provoked her into a new emotional stage.

"My interest in Severus is my own. I respect him and his work." The flatness of her eyes varied greatly with the sweetness of her voice. Otherwise, he might actually have believed her.

"I see," he said with a quirk of his lips. "Very well. I will return him in the morning. However, I was hoping to make a regular night of it. He does lack company. Do you not agree?"

"I suppose that could be arranged."

"Splendid. And yourself, Miss Granger? Surely you will join us one night?"

Her jaw noticeably tightened before she responded.

"Perhaps. Good night, Mr. Malfoy."

"Good night, Miss Granger. I shall look forward to hearing from you."

With an almost patronizing bow, he swiftly left her stuffy office with a distinct smirk.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect. She would be the perfect little pawn with which to amuse himself.

* * *

Plotting was best done with a rested mind. Thus it was that he delayed thought on the Granger issue until the next morning, after he'd sent Severus on his way. Only then, when he was assured a long day without interruptions did he pull out all the information he had on the enigmatic Miss Hermione Granger. 

During his incarceration in the Manor, he had relied heavily on the only news source he was allowed: The Daily Prophet. He'd kept and catalogued every issue. Thus, finding all published information relating to the Mudblood and her friends was easy.

Hermione Jane Granger, like many in her class, had delayed her graduation from Hogwarts for a year in order to help Potter locate and destroy the Dark Lord's horcruxes. He had last seen her at his disastrous retrial shortly before she completed her education. Her NEWTs, taken the same year, were no less than expected and exactly the same as her OWLs: ten Os and one E, about which she was no doubt sour. Combined with the Order of Merlin, First Class, she became quite the force to be reckoned with politically.

Her grades and status fueled her for the first few years into a research position at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where she received numerous commendations before being promoted to Assistant Director. Under her eye, the DMLE became the flagship department of the Ministry with its decreasing overhead, increasing results, and faster response time.

Around the same time, most of Miss Granger's acquaintances were marrying and starting families. By the age of 22, she had attended at least a dozen weddings. Two years into her Assistant Headship, she lacked any single friends. However, as far as the papers were concerned, Miss Granger remained unattached.

It wasn't until he reached the last few years that he found something interesting. Apparently, she had become involved with a Junior Appointee to the Wizengamot, a Mr. Peter Bilken, 56. For several weeks, she continuously told the papers their partnership was strictly professional. However, shortly after her 27th birthday, a scandal of some sorts obviously occurred. First, Mr. Bilken unexpectedly resigned from his post to take a lesser position. Then, after only seven years at the Ministry, Miss Granger was suddenly recommended to take over as Head of the Department of Mysteries. By the time she turned 28, she had firmly settled into the role.

The papers hadn't caught the connection, but he most certainly did. Status and intelligence didn't counterbalance charisma, a skill Miss Granger was most definitely lacking. To get the position in more friendly circumstances would have required much more than luck and a medal. Factoring in her youth, the appointment was more than questionable. Obviously Mr. Bilken had done something reproachable, and Miss Granger's silence on the matter had been bought with a new office and higher salary. He could only guess what the Junior Appointee had supposedly done to warrant such action and cover-up.

Lucius was willing to admit to himself that whatever Miss Granger had done had been effective and obviously completed skillfully. The more he looked into it, the more he became convinced of his earlier intuition: that little Miss Granger was indeed an opponent. For all that she lacked the skills necessary to socially ruin him further than he already was, her political arsenal was well stocked. Were he smart, he would wish Severus good luck with his marriage and stay out of this mess.

But of course, were he smart, he would have never gotten himself involved with Voldemort. He smirked. Getting involved with Hermione Granger surely couldn't be as dangerous as his association with Tom Riddle. After all, she was morally against the Unforgivables.

Now, to sort through the wealth of information he had just received and plot appropriately. After all, time was limited. The pesky Mudblood had already been pregnant for a month, and the easiest abortive potions to acquire were not effective after eight to ten weeks. He would have to be quick.

Now that he knew what she was capable of, he had to speculate her present motive before he could perfect his plot to end the engagement without her death or his incarceration.

But that was the issue, wasn't it. While the previous example of her manipulation was most certainly both a power play and revenge against Mr. Bilken, this situation was no doubt more complicated.

Really, women were strange creatures. She obviously wasn't entirely pleased with the development, and yet she was so determined to go through with it, dragging Severus down with her into domestic hell. Was she really so desperate to stave off loneliness though she clearly enjoyed her solitude? Perhaps she had been indoctrinated with the old assumption that women needed to be married and expecting to be happy. No doubt Molly Weasley had noticed her continued preference of work over romance and had sought to remedy it. Perhaps this supposedly unexpected pregnancy was just another plot, this time not for power but to get the damn Weasley hen to stop pecking.

Now that was a motive he could understand. But still, Severus? Was the girl really so desperate? Then again, her link to Mr. Bilken made it all the more reasonable. After all, even he was younger than Bilken. It seemed likely that Miss Granger was drawn to older men. And lacked taste.

Putting all the details together painted a very interesting portrait of Miss Granger indeed. It made plotting all the more exciting. This was a dangerous woman, a manipulative and powerful woman, who was allowing herself to be intimidated into forcing her own marriage. Therefore, this was a dangerous woman in a situation that weakened her significantly.

And that was exactly the kind of situation he appreciated. It certainly made things much easier. It may not even be necessary to slip her the abortive potion. A few well timed comments, some well phrased sentiments, and she would be buying freedom herself.

It was truly a waste of his talents. This was going to be far too easy.

* * *


	3. Part 3

**Means of Persuasion**  
_Just a Penniless Writer_

**_Standard Disclaimer Applies_**

**Part 3.**

The sitting room of Spinner's End was in no better shape than the last time Lucius had graced it with his presence. He chose to tastefully ignore the surroundings after a derisive sneer.

They wasted little time with pleasantries.

"Did she touch the wine?" he asked pointedly.

"No. She kept it on the table for the day, her eyes wandering to it repeatedly. But when I found it in the cabinet, it had not been opened."

"Did you test it for tampering? She could have replenished the bottle with water and resealed it."

"Possible, but doubtful."

"She does not want the child, Severus. All she needs is a bit of persuasion to rid herself of it."

"So you say," Severus said dourly.

Lucius kept his comments to himself, instead pushing onward to a new topic.

"Did she have any visitors?"

"Only Susan Potter."

"And?"

"I didn't hear the discussion, but she seemed less harsh afterwards."

"Anything else? Did she encounter anyone in the market or otherwise?"

"I found her as if she had been crying in her office just yesterday. I cannot verify that they spoke, but I did pass Molly Weasley on the way out of the lift."

He swore under his breath, nostrils flaring in anger.

"Keep the Weasley Hen away from her. Whatever it takes, they must not speak if I am to assist you."

"I doubt Molly could have as much influence—"

"You know nothing of women, Severus. For all that Miss Granger has done all possible to make herself a man, she is still fundamentally a woman. She is still vulnerable in exactly the spot you cannot see."

"And you can," the Potions master scoffed.

"I, unlike you, have been married. If you want to hurt a woman, all you need do is mention the possibility of her being an old maid."

"You learned this by being married?"

"No, I learned this by watching my wife socialise. Truly, for all I have been found guilty of, I have never damaged anyone as severely as my former wife could with a single sentence."

"Yet she remained free while you were incarcerated."

"I consider it a grave injustice that proves the stupidity of our legal system. Now, regarding your radiant bride-to-be… I believe I need to speak to her. Alone, preferably. She takes well to argument, and mincing words with her would be a grand opportunity to introduce the idea of aborting the child. It could be that simple."

"She wants nothing to do with you. She calls you 'an insufferable elitist pig.' She has expressed her displeasure at my continuing my association with you."

"Regardless, she will consider herself impolite if she refuses my invitation for too long. There is much to be said for the laws of propriety."

Lucius sneered majestically as he finally took a sip from his drink. As he watched his friend from over the rim of the crystal, he saw more satisfaction swimming in those dark eyes than perhaps was warranted.

Not for the first time, he wondered if there was more to this situation than he was aware of.

* * *

Lucius managed to get Hermione to accept a visit to the Manor after two solid weeks of sending invitations and using every last remaining contact he retained. As he already knew she was susceptible to matronly shame, he pushed firmly in that direction. Though she withstood longer than he had hoped, it was no longer than he had anticipated. 

Getting her to stay once she realized Severus had been 'called away' was a different matter. He had been forced to use a combination of charm and well-spoken goading to make her once again take her seat. However, her posture told him that she was preparing for a battle, and in that she was closer to right than perhaps even she knew.

"My apologies, Miss Granger. Had I known Severus had not spoken with you regarding his employer's summons, I would have told you immediately."

She frowned but nodded succinctly. The stiffness in her back eased almost imperceptibly as her eyes explored the room. He held back a delighted smirk. His choice of location for this meeting had been thoroughly considered. Though he cringed at the thought of a Mudblood and a woman being in his study, the books would keep her distracted and the alcohol in his lustrous bar would keep her tempted. He'd even ensured that her seat was facing the studious collection of wine and brandy.

"Truly, I find myself glad Severus is not here. Now, Miss Granger, perhaps I can see who you've become."

She looked at him suspiciously, no more than a slant of her eyes, but took the bait regardless.

"I am who I've always been, Mr. Malfoy."

"Ah, but not quite. The girl I remember attached herself as a Devil's Snare to her companions. The girl I remember was continually overshadowed by luck. You are not that same girl, Miss Granger."

"Perhaps I have simply found alternate means for such traits."

"The girl I remember would never have been attracted to Severus."

She sniffed a bit derisively. The act made him all the happier.

"As I recall, Mr. Malfoy, you were hardly in the position to know where my attractions were placed. You barely acknowledged my existence."

"But I _did_ acknowledge you. Regardless, there are always ways of discerning information without the necessity of being near. As it was, Draco was an excellent source."

"Draco was hardly in a position to know where my attractions were placed. I assure you, I've always been interested in more experienced men, and I've always been particularly interested in Severus."

"Really, Miss Granger… Even when he fell into disrepute?"

That accusation seemed to shake her a bit, and she unconsciously ran a hand along her arm in discomfort.

"We all had our doubts, but yes, even then," she finally said quietly.

He took a generous drink of his brandy, watching as her eyes followed the movement of the crystal. Making a show of how excellent the taste was, because it truly was that excellent, he then offered her a glass once again. She silently refused, but it took her longer to shake her head and in that was some success.

"You disappoint me, Miss Granger. I admit I kept informed of your accomplishments during my incarceration. It was my belief that you might have what it takes to be a truly gifted witch."

"And how exactly have I disappointed you?" she asked pointedly, her eyes flaring with ignited anger. Good, let her be angry.

"You had everything you wanted, obviously. Why did you feel it necessary to ruin your happiness for the sake of what you are _supposed_ to want?"

"I want this child. I want Severus."

"I don't believe you. You may tell yourself that all you wish, but it isn't true."

"And what do _you_ know of truth?! You know _nothing_ of truth!"

She was in a full outburst now, but he remained calm and steady, providing her the voice of reason that he knew she so desperately longed for.

"You, Miss Granger, are not meant for the happy family. The Weasleys bore you in their domestic bliss. Even your precious friends with their precious children annoy you more than anything. While I could understand marriage or alliance, because I assume you are much better behaved once regularly bedded, children scare you. They scare you and _not_ because you would be responsible for another, but simply because they could and would detract from the life you have so carefully built."

Her eyes had blanked out again, but the glittery tears trembling at the corners told him all everything he wanted to know.

"I need not know truth to see that you are miserable, that you have regrets. I have much experience in exploiting regrets, and yours are no different. All I ask is that if you must marry Severus, find another way. Motherhood suits you not. Neither of you have any business with children."

He watched her carefully now, waiting. When a tear finally slipped down her cheek and her shoulders drooped in defeat, he knew he had won.

"Now," he said brightly, "Let us speak of more pleasant matters. Tea?"

Without waiting for a response, he summoned his only house elf and was pushing a cup into her wringing hands within moments.

"Drink, Miss Granger. Forget all this unpleasantness and tell me about Severus' new employer. I have heard interesting comments regarding their practices."

Her movements were slow. Her eyes locked with his as she lifted the cup. She managed a sniff and did not seem surprised by the additional contents of the tea. Then, without batting an eye, she tipped the cup and sipped.

Lucius smirked victoriously and tried not think how terribly easy it had been.

* * *


	4. Part 4

**Means of Persuasion**  
_Just a Penniless Writer_

**_Standard Disclaimer Applies  
Author's Plea: _**About 4 years behind schedule and probably ruins the mood of the previous parts, but this was actually my original idea for the ending - I just couldn't write it. I still don't think I wrote it effectively. If you dislike it, I fault you not, but at least you had 4 years to enjoy the other installments so my conscious is clear. Enjoy if you can.

**Part 4.**

It took a week. Even he was unable to contradict his nerves at waiting for the potion to take effect. It was a long week, but when he received a card on the seventh day excusing Severus's usual visit due to his 'fiancée's unfortunate bout of illness', he knew all was well.

He went about his day with so much satisfaction that his Ministry appointed guard questioned him repeatedly regarding his motives. While he appreciated the suspicion, he did not appreciate the annoyance.

However, he did not sleep as a satisfied man. As someone who rarely bothered with insignificant dreams or such, he was ill equipped to deal with the haunting image of blank eyes following him through his subconscious.

It was altogether ridiculous. Absolutely bloody ridiculous that he should feel even the slightest inclination towards guilt. He had done nothing the witch hadn't practically begged for. If anything, he should feel cheated out of a more entertaining battle of wills. Instead, he found himself drinking to near stupor in the long evenings and waking in the dead morning hours.

On the fourteenth day since his tea with the Mudblood, he found himself facing an unexpected visit by Severus. If the dour man noticed his less than perfect appearance, he said nothing of it. Of course, that in and of itself was unremarkable -Severus _was_ a man of few words. Still, Lucius couldn't quite say the spark of _something_ in his friend's black eyes was simply the thought of his upcoming freedom.

"She is at St. Mungo's still," Severus stated plainly. "The Healers believe a mix of stress and exhaustion caused her collapse and the subsequent loss of the child."

There was a laden pause before he continued.

"Whatever your choice of abortant potion, I commend you. They found nothing to suspect anything but natural causes."

Lucius grinned, but even he knew it was grimmer than it rightfully should be. He had succeeded. He had freed his friend from matrimonial doom, freed the Mudblood from ill-fitted motherhood, and, most importantly, freed himself from debt. There was absolutely no reason for him to be anything besides inordinately pleased.

Regardless, complete satisfaction still eluded him. Hollow eyes still followed at the edge of his consciousness. He could do nothing but grin and curse it.

* * *

Her progress was slow but steady. An article on page five of the _Daily Prophet_ told the sad story of her illness and the heartbreaking loss of the child. A week later, an article on page four covered her separation from her fiancée.

He could have stopped then and been far the better for it. However, any belief that the nightmares would stop once he received confirmation that the engagement was defunct was torn to shreds within days.

The hollow eyes were more than irritating. When no amount of liquor ended them and no amount of exhaustion bought him freedom, he took to making cauldrons of Dreamless Sleep. He was well informed of the possible side effects, but dismissed them as the failings of weaker men. He was far too strong to succumb to potion abuse.

Within a day his sleep was sound, and within a week he was back in form. Within a month, he took his nightly dose without second thought. The next month, he sought to wean himself off, but found that one thought of hollow eyes brought the bottle back. By the third month, he could admit privately he had a problem, but it wasn't something he couldn't handle. If his inhibitions were lowered and his mind prone to occasional fuzziness, he would simply refrain from social company during the evening hours when the lure of another dose took control.

It simply wouldn't do to lose now, when he was finally getting everything back in order. If it took a bit of potion addiction, then that was simply the price of business.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy? May I come through?"

The Mudblood looked different. It could have been an effect of the green tint from the Floo, but the shadows missing from beneath her eyes were more than just the odd lighting.

She was… refreshed. Refreshed was dangerous.

"This is not a particularly good time, Miss Granger."

"I assure you, I will not take much of your time."

The firm jaw told him she had no intention of accepting any excuses he had to offer. Though he was inclined to shut the Floo completely, Lucius could not ignore the threat laced in her tone.

"Very well, Miss Granger. But I must insist you not stay overlong. I was about to retire for the night."

Even through the green glow of the Floo, he could see the hard glint in her eyes. She was planning something, but it was tough to keep his wits about when he was already feeling such a strong pull for the Dreamless Sleep. Repressing a grimace, he stepped back to allow her to walk through the fire and into his parlour.

As she dusted the minuscule amount of ash that had defeated her charms, he took note of her appearance. Everything he saw made him tense. She was more than simply refreshed – she was rejuvenated. Her rosy cheeks and bright eyes told nothing of the illness she'd endured.

This was more than dangerous.

"While I do appreciate your visit, I will not be good company for much longer. Is there a particular purpose for such an unexpected social call?" he said with attempted nicety. Even he could hear how brittle his tone had become.

"I wanted to thank you for your rather moving speech last we spoke. Though I am saddened by the loss of my child, I must also admit a bit of relief. You are correct – I am not interested in motherhood."

"There is no need for appreciation."

"On the contrary, I believe there is. You gave me much to think about. The traditional family life may be something my friends can enjoy, but it is not a goal of mine. I can see that better now. I suppose being so adamant about keeping the child was only because I wished to keep Severus and saw no other way. He is not suited for fatherhood."

He was growing nervous just as she was growing bolder. He could see her assuredness in every line of her body.

"However, he is also not suited for an alliance that extends farther than association. He would not make a good husband."

Though her tone was light, her eyes were hard as steel and twice as lethal.

"Not a good husband at all, though he does make for an excellent indebted associate. I can see why Dumbledore kept him for so long."

She was pouring herself a glass of his port. He wanted to stop her but the words wouldn't come.

"The best debts are those that can never be repaid. Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Malfoy?"

He gathered his wits about him for a defense. Still, it would help if he only knew what she was after.

"That entirely depends on whether or not you are the debtor."

She smirked slightly, and in the wavering firelight with the glass of his finest port poised by her lips, she was more frightening than Voldemort had ever been. His fingers itched to snatch the liquor from her. However, following such wonderful port with Dreamless Sleep would be uncouth so he refrained.

"Lucky me, then."

Sipping her drink, she moaned softly in appreciation for the taste. It was a particularly excellent vintage she was filching, after all. However, he was left concerned with her audacity and more concerned with what that one little noise had done to his nerves. His mind, already murky from addiction, and his body, already trembling from need, seemed in agreement over how much that moan from her filthy lips was appreciated.

Turning his head sharply in a vague hope to dislodge this thought, he turned his gaze to the wall. A portrait of his grandfather caught his eye – the smugness of the painted man was all too apparent and there may have even been a glint of respect. The dead man even raised his own glass of painted port in recognition.

"Your family isn't entirely hopeless."

Her voice... It was ringing faintly in his ears, but he was having more trouble concentrating with the passing of each second.

"What do you want, Miss Granger?" he said wearily. The game was not in his favour and he saw no point in drawing out his loss when he was in no condition to compete.

"You."

He turned to meet her eyes so quickly it only further exacerbated his fried nerves.

"Severus is not an ideal candidate for husband... but you are."

His silence must have been telling.

"You, Mr. Malfoy, are going to be my greatest prize."

That woke him from his stupor. As consigned as he was to losing this battle, his dignity was still smarting enough without such insults.

"I am no such thing!"

She smiled as she took another sip of his port.

"I admit, the idea took some... consideration. When I first approached Severus for his assistance, I was not expecting him to offer you. Though I took care after the war to keep you within reach, I thought there were certainly far more likely candidates for my husband. He convinced me otherwise. Attractive, wealthy, basic intelligence, uninterested in children... you have a few redeeming qualities."

Her eyes were practically glittering from the glow of the fire. He swallowed thickly. The direction of her statements was completely unexpected, but somehow, seeing her like this – powerful, confident, manipulative—was making her all the more dangerously attractive.

"But it was the challenge that drew me," she said airily. "I've been dreadfully bored lately. Severus was quick to point out your high tolerance to most spirits and potions, so a more meandering route was necessary. You had to be brought into the game believing you were in control of the board. I'm almost disappointed you made it so easy."

And he could see it all before him, so crystal clear. There had been no child, and there had been no engagement. It had simply been a lure to entice and distract him until her trap was sprung.

"You've been drugging me," he stated dully.

She set her glass down on his desk and approached him slowly, as if expecting him to act as a wounded animal. At this point, he wasn't sure himself.

"Would you think less of me if I were?" she said softly as her hand cautiously, confidently rose to his overheated cheek.

"Prejudice is too entrenched. My political aspirations are at a stand-still while I remain unmarried. My ambition requires nothing less than the Wizengamot. I need the proper husband to get there."

Her voice was enthralling, and he wondered idly if she'd laced her words with an unspoken spell. He definitely believed her capable of such.

"Now... Lucius... I believe we have taken this dance far enough. Believe me when I say I only took such trouble because I want my husband to actually _want_ me. Blackmail can only get you so far."

He didn't even see her other hand move until it rested on his other cheek, her hands gently forcing him to meet her gaze.

"I'll let you sleep Lucius. I'll make it all stop: the dreams, the potion. Just say yes."

His eyes felt so heavy. His shoulders felt so weary. Her hands felt so warm. The trance was effective, and he was just so tired...

"Yes."

* * *

_fin_


End file.
